Page 49 of Renegade (The Santini Assassins #2)

“I got you,” Carrera said, pulling out his phone.

“No,” Greystone pushed back. “Building maintenance can’t know.”

“Good point,” Carrera said. “I’ll call a locksmith.” After he hung up, he said, “Twenty.”

While they waited, Caroline made a call, put the phone to her ear. “Tank, are you at the BS? What’s our match at?” She listened. “Great. Gotcha. I’m at the Bureau with Grey. Will you still be there when I get back?”

She thanked him, hung up, and turned to Greystone. “Tank’s program finished running. We’ve got fourteen matches at JL’s company.”

“Do you think she has any idea?” Greystone asked.

“No, I don’t.”

“Someone needs to question her… and you gotta be there for it.”

“I’m on it.” Caroline made another call. “Addison, I need your help.”

She was slaying it, but he expected nothing less. When it came to Caroline Austin, she was second to none.

CAROLINE

Caroline hung up, fixed her gaze on Grey. “Addison is following up with JL.”

“Locksmith’s here,” Carrera said. “I’ll bring him up.” He took off toward the elevator.

“How’s Addison questioning her if the group is top-secret?” Grey asked.

Caroline stepped close. For a split second she got lost in the intensity of his gaze, but he lowered his head so she could whisper in his ear.

She stood on her toes, gripped his shoulder for support. “ALPHA Ops have badges to several three-letter agencies, so they use one of those aliases,” she whispered.

“When’s Addison going?”

“Now.”

“You gotta meet her.”

“I can’t just drop in—” She broke eye contact. “I got this.” Caroline texted JL.

How are you doing? Did Erik come back to work?

…

Emergency contact said he moved back to UAE

He just ghosted on you???

His contact said it was work related

I’m here if you want to talk

Caroline called Addison.

“Hey,” Addison answered. “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. She talked to his emergency contact who said he went back to UAE for work. I couldn’t get the contact’s name without sounding suspicious.”

“I can get there in forty,” Addison said.

“I’ll meet you there.” Caroline ended the call.

Carrera returned with the locksmith, who keyed open the bathroom door.

“Make me a master key,” Carrera said.

“No prob, but don’t you have to put in a req for this?” asked the locksmith. “Normally, this kinda thing takes forever.”

“I took care of the paperwork and I got cash.”

“That’ll work.” The locksmith got busy cutting a key.

Grey eyed Caroline. “I’m goin’ in.”

“Together,” she said.

“If there’s something in there, we gotta make sure it’s not set to blow,” he murmured.

Slowly, Grey cracked open the door, peered inside. “All clear.”

After pushing it open the rest of the way, he entered, she followed.

There was nothing remarkable in the restroom. No bomb in the middle of the floor, no bomb-making supplies.

She closed the door behind them, and they stood there, looking around. There was no sign anyone had been doing repairs on anything . The urinals were intact, so were the sinks. Slowly, Grey pushed open a stall door.

“It looks fine,” Caroline said. “I don’t get it.”

Grey flushed the toilet.

There wasn’t a leak, no water came spraying out. They flushed all the toilets, ran the water at the sinks. Everything in that bathroom checked out.

“Okay, so I thought they were building a bomb in here, but now, I’m not so sure,” she said.

“Maybe they’re buildin’ it in the wall,” he said. “See if you can find anything that looks out of place.”

As she examined the walls, he climbed onto a closed toilet lid, pushed up one of the drop-down ceiling tiles, and stuck his head inside.

He got down. “Nothing.”

She ran her fingers over the wall tile, scrutinized the flooring. “Another dead end.”

The pit in her stomach grew larger. Though she felt like screaming, she pulled out her phone and began recording the room. She videoed every stall, each urinal and sink, then the walls and ceiling. When finished, she stared at herself in the mirror. “This is infuriating.”

In true Grey form, he stayed silent, but his body language spoke volumes. His nostrils were flared, his hands curled into fists. He looked as angry as she felt.

Another dead end.

Back in the hallway, Carrera paid in cash, handed the master key to Grey. “I’m gonna escort him out. Call if you need anything.”

“Get us access to this surveillance camera,” Grey reminded him.

“I’ll see what I can do.” After saying goodbye, Carrera retreated toward the elevator bank with the locksmith.

Grey hooked the key onto his ring. “I’m gonna spend another minute in there. Maybe we missed somethin’.”

“I need to get to JL’s company. What about you?”

“Black Site,” he murmured.

“I’ll see you there. ”

He ran a comforting hand down her back. “We’ll figure this out.”

While she appreciated his confidence, they’d hit another major effin’ roadblock. At the elevator, her growing frustration swirled like an angry tornado, destroying everything in its path.

On the way to JL’s company, Caroline made a quick stop at the grocery store, then on to Federal Commercial Cleaning Services in Crystal City, just outside DC. With the grocery bag in hand, she entered the building, walked into the company’s first-floor office.

“Caroline Austin for Jennifer Leigh,” she said to the receptionist.

“She’s in a meeting.”

“Can you tell her I’m here?”

The woman made a call. “A Caroline Austin is here for JL.” The receptionist hung up. “I let her assistant know.”

Not more than three minutes later, a woman entered reception. “Caroline?”

“Yes.”

“Let me bring you back.”

Caroline was escorted to JL’s corner office. Once inside, she glanced at Addison, then cemented her gaze on JL.

JL’s normally rosy complexion was sallow, she was busy nibbling on a fingernail. “Special Agent—I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

Addison stood, extended her hand. “Anne English, Special Agent, FBI.”

“Caroline Austin,” she said, shaking it, before regarding JL. “What’s going on?”

“She just told me that Erik might be involved in some illegal activity,” JL said.

Caroline sat next to Addison. “What kind of activity?”

“The FBI thinks he’s a terrorist,” JL blurted. “He might be responsible for running over and killing over twenty people in a DC parade. He’s wanted for the bombing attacks at a British college and a Paris concert.”

“Ohgod,” Caroline said. “That’s terrible.”

“That explains why he ghosted, why I was never invited to his house, why he never liked having his picture taken,” JL said.

“You mentioned talking with Erik’s emergency contact,” Addison continued. “What’s his name?”

JL got busy on her computer. “Kyle Brandon. He said he was a friend of Erik’s and wanted me to know that Erik wasn’t coming back.”

“Were you surprised?” Addison asked.

“Of course, but hearing that he’s a suspected terrorist is freaking me out. Why did he want to work for me?”

“I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation,” Addison replied. “But I’m going to need access to your employee files.”

“Those are confidential,” JL said.

“I can get a warrant,” Addison pushed back, “but I’d have to seize your computers.”

“You can take copies of everything, but I can’t shut down during the investigation. I employ hundreds.” She gaped at Addison. “You don’t think there are other terrorists on my payroll, do you?”

The conversation continued while Caroline studied her friend. She appeared to be genuinely surprised over the news and willing to comply. By the end of the interview, tears welled in JL’s eyes.

“I was used. He took advantage of me. How do I vet my employees better?”

“Who runs the background checks?” Addison asked.

“I was, until Erik came on board. He told me I was the visionary and that he’d take over a lot of the onboarding tasks.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Can I get the contact info for Kyle Brandon?” Addison asked .

JL pulled up the information and forwarded it to her.

Addison wrapped up the meeting, said she’d be in touch, then showed herself out.

Now, alone with Jennifer Leigh, Caroline waited for her to speak first.

“I trusted him,” JL said.

“What can I do to help?” Caroline asked.

“Make this nightmare go away.”

“I wish I could.” Caroline pulled out JL’s three favorite dark chocolate bars from the grocery bag. “I stopped by to make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course, I’m not okay,” JL snapped. “What kind of stupid are you, huh? I’m guessing the big stupid!

This isn’t high school or college when I’d get dumped.

This is my life , Caroline, my multi-million-dollar business.

Do you even get that? Chocolate bars won’t make this better.

But they will make me fat. Is that what you want?

Me, fat? You’re not helping. I think you’re part of the prob. ”

Wow .

JL was a mess, but Caroline had to call it. This was the end of the road for her. Yes, her friend had just gotten gobsmacked with horrific news, but she wasn’t her punching bag.

Caroline collected the chocolate bars and stood. “Good luck, JL. You’re gonna need it.”